


From the First

by The_Blister_Pearl_Lady



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Female Harry, Female Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-20 12:21:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16137137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Blister_Pearl_Lady/pseuds/The_Blister_Pearl_Lady
Summary: A female Harry Potter’s life, from the moment her parents first realize she is coming. A personal experiment in the butterfly effect, in just how much difference one simple incidental change would make. Fem Harry.





	From the First

Chapter One: Inside Our Home There is Wonderful

A song. Simple, drifting lazily through her head, a song of best friends falling in love. The woman loses her temper and gets angry with the man, and then regrets it. The man responds with understanding and humor. The woman realizes she’s in love with the man. The man is not dark or damaged, he doesn’t take his problems out on her, he carries her groceries and he makes her laugh, and she can’t help it. She wants to stay with him. Forever.

It was an easy song, a warm song, a song of best friends.

Lily woke up in bed.

Her first thought was that it was weird - she never heard songs playing through her head when she first woke up in the morning. She groaned, slid out of bed, slid into her slippers, and shuffled from the bed to the attached bathroom. She sat down on the toilet, pulled her nightgown up and her underwear down -

“… Finally,” she said to herself first, annoyed. “I’m always irregular but the wait was starting to feel strange. It took you a long time this time, you know,” she said sternly at what was obviously an inanimate object.

Then she paused and frowned. There was no splash of red like in menstruation. Only spots of light pink dotting her underwear.

When she got dressed for the day back in her bedroom and was putting on her bra, there was further strangeness. She paused and stared down at her chest, half-dressed. Was it just her, or were her breasts looking… odd? 

The areolae were wide and dark, nothing like they usually looked. They looked like they belonged to a much larger chest than Lily had. Lily had always been so small and… perky.

Her head swimming with strangeness and confusion she was mostly too embarrassed to admit, she waddled more than walked down the stairs and into the kitchens.

“You okay?” said James, frowning and curious, as they made to get eggs.

“I feel like a walking flotation device. The Time is finally coming,” said Lily flatly. She hadn’t felt this bloated in several months, and it was making her rather irritable.

“Ah. Remind me not to ask again for about two weeks,” said James.

“Haha,” said Lily, and then she told him to go do something that was rather impolite. James just laughed.

Lily moved forward to get her eggs - and their unusually pungent smell reached her nose. She choked, threw her plate down with a clatter, and ran out of the kitchens.

“Lily?!” James called after her in utter confusion.

Lily leaned back against a wall outside the kitchens and took deep breaths. The smell gone, her churning stomach had gone back to normal again. That was weird. Eggs had never made her feel sick before.

And that was when a memory came to her.

“Of course, Mum knew before the Healers even told her,” said Lily’s friend Mary MacDonald as they were walking together one day down a Hogwarts corridor years ago, clutching their books to their chests. Mary shook her head. “A little sister at fifteen,” she sighed in despair. “Can you imagine?”

“How did she know - before the Healers told her?” said Lily, confused. “All the symptoms can also be other things, can’t they?”

“But if you’re pregnant and other symptoms appear, there’s one that’s incontrovertible,” said Mary knowledgeably. “My Dad’s a Muggle, but my Mum’s a witch, and she told me. 

“Witches hear songs in their head when they’re pregnant. It’s always a particular song, and it reminds them of conception. If the witch was hurt or abused, it’s a song about that. If it was a steamy one-night affair, it’s a song about that. An unhappy marriage? Same thing. A failed relationship? Same thing.

“A happy marriage? Same thing. Perfectly tailored to what kind of marriage it is.”

The flashback ended.

“It can’t be. I usually take all the potions,” Lily whispered to herself, troubled. “Especially recently. Except for -“

More images flashed before her eyes.

James grinning. “Come on, Lils. It’ll be Halloween night. The weather hasn’t changed yet. Let’s blow off some steam.”

“We’re too busy. There’s the Blood War effort and the Light Side to think of,” said Lily sternly. “You’re a Transfiguration specialist and a Duelist for the Order of the Phoenix, I’m a Charms specialist and a Healer. They can’t afford to lose us because we were behaving recklessly.”

“The concert is -“

“A tiny indie thing, outdoors, in an open air stadium -“

“In the Muggle world, where we’ll just be one among the masses.” James took her hands and looked deep into her eyes earnest. “It’ll be by the sea, there’ll be a bonfire, we can go there after we’re done…”

He trailed off longingly.

“Come on. We’re married and we haven’t even had any fun with it yet,” he said, when Lily bit her lip. “One night. Halloween. What do you think?”

More images: Cheering and drinking together amid the Muggle crowds at the concert, dancing around. Walking lazily hand in hand, barefoot, pants rolled up, along the moonlight on the beach together - Past the drinking crowds around the bonfire. Past the people. To a hidden little alcove on the sea, surrounded by high walls of black rock. Where they went skinny-dipping and they made love.

Needless to say, Lily hadn’t taken her potions beforehand. They had been drunk. They had been young. They had been reckless. They had been having fun. They had been in love. They had been relieving the stress of a civil war in their own world.

And the timing was right.

“It can’t be,” Lily whispered now in the present. “… But let’s check.”

Before she left, she went to the bathroom, pulled down her pants, and checked her underwear one last time.

Still no further blood. No red.

Not a cycle.

-

Lily had to take a deep breath, go up to the Apothecary counter surrounded by bundles of feathers, strings of fangs, and snarled claws hanging from the ceiling. And she had to say, “I need a Potion for pregnancy testing.”

The portly older woman at the counter gave her the once-over up and down.

“Not that it matters, but if you must know I’m married,” Lily snapped, blushing furiously.

The woman sighed, shook her head, but went to grab the bottle from the series of potion bottles on a particular shelf behind the counter. “How much?” she said.

“Oh, just a basic will do,” said Lily absently, reaching into her pocketbook for some coins. “I think it’s just a silly suspicion.”

A minimalist glass bottle with an ordinary stopper full of thick blue fluid - a pregnancy-safe but simple and inexpensive potion - was slammed before her on the counter. She paid the coins and hurried out of the Apothecary, the bell over the door ringing shut behind her.

Back at home in the bathroom, without telling anyone she tipped her head back and drank the whole thing in one go. She winced and gagged as the disgusting and thick potion slipped down her throat. She waited a few minutes, then sat down to pee -

And looked between her legs to see the color.

“Oh, God,” she managed.

Red. Faint, but red.

“… I’m pregnant.”

-

Lily walked out through the Potter Manor, across the entrance hall, and into the sitting room, feeling unusually hesitant. Potter Manor was a warm manor home, rustic with wood panels, high ceilings, warm red colors, and big stone fireplaces. It was a chilly, icy November outside the windows. Potter Manor was out in the countryside, with a vast field and forest out back through the same set of windows.

Inside the sitting room were Fleamont and Euphemia Potter, a tiny old couple, ill and pale and dying. Lily’s cat from Hogwarts wound around their ankles in a comforting sort of fashion, and the house-elf family was plying them with tea.

Lily swallowed as she bit back a wave of nervousness. What would they say?

James, standing by the fireplace, looked up and brightened. “Lils!” Then he frowned, straightening and becoming more serious. “What’s the matter?”

James Potter was tall and slim, though he had been small as a child, with messy black hair, a defined jawline, round glasses, and a nerdy kind of charm to him. He had broader, more Greek features and coloring. His eyes were hazel, and his smile was friendly.

Lily Evans Potter, a Muggleborn marrying into a wealthy Pureblood family, was small and petite, with a heart-shaped face, high cheekbones, and long crimson-colored dark-red hair. She had pale skin and small, delicate features that looked a bit more French in style. Her eyes were almond-shaped and bright green, vivid against her high, pale cheekbones.

“Well…” She fiddled with her hands as everyone looked up at her, even the cat. “That depends on your definition of wrong. Hypothetically… nothing’s the matter,” she said hopefully.

James looked amused but puzzled. “What does that mean?”

Lily took a deep breath. “I’m pregnant.”

You could have heard a quill drop in the room. Lily winced.

“I just took a test and figured it out,” she admitted.

James’s eyes widened - and then a stunned and rather terrified smile filled his face. “Well that’s - that’s amazing, that’s wonderful!” he exploded, running forward and enveloping her in a hug.

Lily breathed a sigh of relief. Tears in her eyes, she hugged him back, warm and so tight. James was lovely. That could have gone a lot worse.

“So I take it this wasn’t planned?” came Euphemia Potter’s wry voice, and James and Lily separated to look over at her hesitantly.

“Er… would you believe us if we say it was?” said James with nervous hopefulness, as terror filled Lily’s features.

To be honest, she had never been as steady with her potions as she ought to have been.

“Relax, James,” said Euphemia calmly. “We may be a mostly secular family - in a wizarding world most closely related to Wiccan, with extremely tolerant marriage laws and magical child-having abilities - but we’re not going to demand you end a pregnancy you seem to be happy with. That would be ridiculous.”

“Besides, it would be nice to know you were secure,” Fleamont coughed out. “That you had this home, and our medicinal potion fortune, and a grandchild of ours on the way. Before we have to go.”

“Yes, it would,” said Euphemia softly, draping an arm and a blanket around his shoulders. James’s eyes were full of emotion as he watched his parents, so small and frail. “The war may be terrible outside, but inside our home there is wonderful,” Euphemia added firmly.

Lily liked that. _Inside our home there is wonderful._

“… I agree,” she said, a smile filling her features. She turned to James and grabbed his hands. “… We’re having a kid!” she squealed.

“We are!” said James, still sounding stunned, and he hugged her.

“Oh, I was wondering…” Lily turned frowning in worry to Euphemia. “The potion after-effects were a very… light color… That’s not a problem, is it?” She winced, trying to word this delicately.

Euphemia sighed. “You used a cheap one, didn’t you?”

Lily stood there looking sheepish.

“Don’t go cheap with the rest of it,” said Euphemia sternly, peering at Lily. “But a red color is a red color.” She smiled. “Congratulations.”

Lily beamed and ran forward to hug her laughing mother in law. In the cozy little sitting room, James watched his family and smiled with tender fondness.

-

Lily sat in her study at her desk over star charts and predictions, scribbling in ink, concentrating as she made a chart of her own by candlelight.

“Astrology and star alignment are as important to wizards and witches as the earthly part of nature itself.” She put her tongue between her teeth. “So let’s calculate your due date and see what the first part of your birth chart looks like.”

She finished writing - and brightened.

“How does it all look?” said James hopefully, coming in behind Lily and rubbing her shoulders.

Lily sat back and smiled peacefully, putting a hand over one of his. “Due date is July 31st. A summer baby.

“So the child born will be a Leo Sun and, if the due date pans out and depending on time of day born, either a Pisces Moon or an Aries Moon. If the child is born about 2:30 PM or before, Pisces. If the child is born about 3 PM or later, Aries.

“Of course, we don’t know Rising Sign yet. That’s decided by time of day born. And we won’t know personality type until the child is born and starts growing.”

“Well, it’s bound to be a cool kid. Not only is it ours,” said James positively, and Lily smiled, “but they were conceived on Halloween! The most powerfully magical holiday, when the world to the afterlife and the spirits is seen to be thinnest.”

“I can’t wait to meet them,” said Lily quietly, with a glowing little smile.

James gave another of his soft, tiny smiles. “… Neither can I,” he admitted, unusually quiet, in the dark, candle-lit study.

-

“James, we have a problem,” said Lily, coming into their bedroom one day, a master suite with a four poster red velvet bed.

“Which is?” James looked around from his own desk, puzzled.

“We’re supposed to find a Healer for our baby - I think. And… I don’t know anything about how that works from a wizarding perspective,” said Lily, wincing.

James let out a breath and sat back. “Well,” he said. “Healers for babies, children, families, and general health do not work at St Mungo’s. They work at private individual practices hidden all over the country.

“So first, we would have to decide what kind of Healer with what kind of degree we wanted.

“Then we would have to decide what style of practice, who we’d go to for recommendations, and our final qualifications for what we’d want out of a Healer - all basic Muggle stuff, I think.

“Centers for birth and centers for Healing are different areas, and any Healer can reach any center by magical means, so then we’d have to decide our final qualifications for a birthing center.

“And finally, any Birthing Center room can be sucked up and taken anywhere alongside the Healer, so where would we want the birth to take place? In a hospital like facility, in more of a place for midwives, at home…?

“There’s… a lot to consider,” James admitted. “It’s individualized, which is a good thing, but that also means it’s individualized. Get it?”

“I think,” Lily took up a scroll of parchment and a quill determinedly, her eyes gleaming, “that we need to sit down and make a list.”

“Oh, no, the nerd from boarding school is back,” said James mildly, mostly so that Lily could kick him and tell him to work with her.

“Popular jock git,” she muttered, and James couldn’t help a smile. “How I fell for you when we were Head Boy and Girl together, I’ll never understand.”

“I was unusually charming that year!” James beamed.

“No kidding.” Lily glared, but there was no real bite to it. They were joking with each other. It was just the kind of marriage they had.

So they sat down, Lily cross-legged on the bed, and they started their list, the cat winding and purring between them in the quiet.

“So,” said Lily at the end, looking over her list with an eagle eye, “at the end we have:

“An Independent-Familial Healer. In Muggle terms, this is a combination of a family physician and a certified nurse midwife. This means the Healer would be interested in family dynamics, interested in all aspects of my health, and able to become the family Healer after the birth.

“It also means they would be willing to take extra time at each visit, as attentive to my emotional needs as my physical ones, and able to offer more detailed nutritional advice and more comprehensive breastfeeding support. They would be open to herbal and non-wand magical remedies instead of more invasive potions and spells, more open to alternative birth options, and a strong advocate of natural childbirth instead of the wizarding way of just opening a hole in the abdomen, taking the baby out, and closing it up again.

“Highly certified but better for low risk pregnancies, this person would not be trained to handle every complication and every question, a highly qualified specialist, certified for high risk pregnancies, or specialized with a Healer’s degree in women’s reproductive health.

“We want a solo practice. We want to see the same person at every visit and get one set of consistent advice. We have decided to bet on this person we trust being there for us when we need it and coming through for us in end.

“We’re going to look for candidates by regular Potter family practices and your parents’ advice, as well as by lists from a local Alternative Births and Breastfeeding League.

“We’d prefer a woman, and we want someone who is a patient explainer, is a believer in equality and listening to both parents, has a sense of humor, and works on a more personal and emotional parental or motherly level.

“In a center, we want a tub and bed for natural water labor, a squat bar for pushing, a comfortable place for you to room-in, plenty of space for friends and family to hang out, sleeper sofas for our guests, and breastfeeding and baby friendly policies such as skin to skin contact right after a birth.

“I trust in my motherly instincts enough when it comes to figuring out breastfeeding for myself, so I don’t think I’ll need a lactation consultant.

“And finally, we want a home birth. We want the birth to be warm, loving, homey, and familiar, right here at the Manor, without clinical protocol and personnel getting in the way. This also means emergency facilities in case of something going unexpectedly wrong won’t be available, but we’ve decided to take the risk!” 

Lily looked up firmly at James.

“What do you think?”

“I think we’re horrible hippies,” said James cheerfully. “And shameless Light Side Gryffindors.”

“I agree.” Lily smirked, her eyes gleaming. “Now we have to go find someone. Let’s do it.”

-

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with us, Healer Amelia Consin,” said Lily, sitting down in a medical office space alongside James, the walls filled with bottles of potions and herbs, a white medical bed off to one side of the chairs.

Sitting across from them was an upright, grandmotherly little woman with a round face and a perm of silver hair.

“Oh, it’s no trouble, thank you for choosing me,” she said, looking them over with a sharp eagle eye.

“We decided we trust you not to kill our baby during labor,” said James, grinning.

“I’m honored, James,” said Healer Consin dryly. “I will be sure to fulfill your expectations and kill the baby before labor instead.”

Lily smiled as James let out a delighted laugh. He had loved Healer Consin from the first meeting.

“Now, what we are mainly doing in this initial meeting,” said Healer Consin, drawing up parchment on a clipboard, “is making up a pregnancy health profile for you, and deciding on your diet plan.”

The sheet at the end said:

Profile -

Was using irregular wizarding birth control potions around pregnancy time. These shouldn’t be a risk or have an impact.

Rh negative blood type mother with an Rh positive father and - through magical testing - an Rh positive baby. This is one of those rare cases in which I recommended a potion be administered, not to protect this first baby - this baby is fine - but to protect any future babies that may occur.

Underweight. Is naturally thin, so filling up her plate and focusing on weight gain is especially important. She doesn’t like heavy potion-related interventions, so she’s going to have to do that all on her own. But overall, there shouldn’t be a problem.

Genetic Screening for Both Parents: Testing for a magical blood-related illness in James because of Mediterranean descent. Lily being tested for a magical lung-related illness because of European Caucasian descent. They were found to be in the clear.

Diet -

Protein: Cottage cheese, Greek yogurt, eggs, fresh fish.

Calcium: Almond milk, salmon with bones, ground sesame seeds, cooked greens like kale or collards.

Vitamin C: Grapefruit and grapefruit juice, kiwi, diced pineapple, freeze-dried mango and strawberries, red and orange and yellow bell peppers, tomato juice, baked potato.

Fruits and Vegetables: Apricots, nectarines, persimmons, coleslaw, sweet potato and yam, chopped parsley, applesauce, bananas, blueberries, avocado, raw mushrooms, okra, onion and zucchini.

Whole Grains: Soy crisps, granola, brown rice, quinoa.

Iron Rich: Duck, cooked clams oysters mussels and shrimp, seaweed, pumpkin seed.

Fats: Olive oil, butter and margarine, mayonnaise, cream.

Omega 3: Salmon, walnuts, crab, shrimp.

Prenatal herbal supplement put together for her using magical ingredients by me. Made into a gummy.

No sashimi or sushi. Spicy food is still okay. No more sugar substitutes. Herbal tea if approved by me is okay. Buying food organic.

-

There were of course lifestyle changes. These were best captured in a series of images:

Lily grumbling as she clamped down on her constant black tea intake.

“Only three cups a day,” said James cheerfully over his own mug as she glared down at her cup in the morning.

Lily trying music alongside her bubble baths in the evening, and prenatal yoga, in place of the wine she always used to drink to relax. “It really is too bad,” she sighed bored in the middle of a yoga pose, “that I’m a lightweight who always drinks too much when I do.”

Lily then having to measure the temperature of her bath water because hot tubs and extremely hot baths were also out.

Lily cuddling up to James with blankets on cold winter’s evenings. James gave her a fond smile as she pouted miserably, red hair in her face, forbidden from overly hot and artificially hot substances.

Everyone else changing the cat litter while she was pregnant except for her, they glaring as she sat back in satisfaction.

Lily determinedly changing every kind of cleaner in the house to a gentler and more natural product, in a flurry of movement, the house elves in the background sighing dispiritedly.

Lily trying every kind of alternate therapy there was: Sitting still while needles were placed on her in acupuncture. Laying down on beds for massages. Trying soaking in water as hydrotherapy. Willingly being hypnotized by a therapist in hypnotherapy. Trying all the herbal tea remedies verified by wizarding medicine.

She had a firm, fierce look on her face the entire time, determined to get it right, that James secretly found rather cute.

Lily and James started regular, bracing arm in arm walks through the forest on the grounds as a form of exercise, even as the snow started to fall on the evergreens. They talked and laughed the whole time. These were really the moments when they started to glow, when the whole genuinely happy thing started to sink in for them. 

Fleamont and Euphemia, tiny and silent, watched one of these walks from a large window, the house elves beside them.

“They’re as prepared as they’ll ever be,” Fleamont commented, “for pregnancy.”

“No one’s ever really ready to have a child,” said Euphemia. “Not even when they planned for it, not even when it goes ordinarily.”

“… I wish we’d get to live to see them become a family,” said Fleamont, watching the laughing couple out in the forest amid the first soft snowfall. “But I don’t think we’re going to.”

“… No,” said Euphemia. “Me neither.” She turned suddenly and severely to the house elves. “Take care of them,” she commanded fiercely.

The house elves looked up with big eyes. “… Yes, sir. Yes, ma’am.”


End file.
